He liked that.

Hell, he loved that.

“Hey,” he rasped, a wealth of meaning in his tone and posture.

“Hey,” she responded, voice husky, pupils dilated.

He touched his index finger to her chin, tipping it up ever so slightly.

She didn’t pull away, so he bent his head, forcing himself to go slow, giving her plenty of time to shut him down. He could smell her skin, feel the heat of her breath, taste the sweet explosion of her lips under his.

His free hand curled to a fist as he steeled himself to keep the kiss gentle. He fought an almost overwhelming urge to open wide, to meet her tongue, to let the passion roar to life between them.

Instead, he drew back, though he was almost shaking with the effort.

“Stop?” he rasped, needing a definite answer, and needing it right now.

“Go,” she replied, and his world pitched sideways.

With a groan of surrender, he dropped to one knee, clamping a hand behind her neck, firmly pulling her forward for a real kiss.

There was no hesitation this time. Their tongues met in a clash. She shifted in the chair to mold against him, her breasts plastered against his chest while desire raced like wildfire along his limbs.

Her hair was soft, her breath softer, and her body was pure heaven in his arms.

“I want you,” he’d muttered.

“No kidding,” she came back.

His chuckle rumbled against her lips. “Sassy.”

“You know it,” she whispered in the instant before he kissed her all over again.

The kiss went harder and deeper, until he finally had to gasp for air. “Can I take that as a yes?”

“Can I take that as an offer?” she countered.

“You can take it as a promise,” he said, and scooped her into his arms.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and burrowed into the crook at his neck. Then her teeth came down gently on his earlobe. Lust shot through him, and he cursed the fact that his bedroom was in a far corner on the third floor.